Chapter Twelve
Six months ago...
As a red mist it slithered closer to the sleeping mortal causing a dream to form. Egan Lasco cannot escape its power.
The dirty blond hair boy had many bruises. His clothes are dirty and blood stained as he hides behind a trash-can in an alley. Trying to disappear from his tormentors, he kept his motions slow.
He looks at the world with dark almost black eyes. He smells the refuse with its rottenness and eatable things. No one else wants it but Egan does.
He quickly peeks in the trash-can and takes out a half-eaten banana.
Crouching down to begin eating, his little mind hears a voice saying with a measure of humor. "Little Egan look at all the money in the world and none for you."
The laughing is spiteful and Egan feels his anger rise at the voice but he is so helpless.
The voice whispers to him, "One day when you are in power you will know what to do."
Egan is no longer afraid or angry and listens to the whispers. "You must take what was never given you. Then you will have more power than you ever dreamed of."
At that moment, his attackers find him hiding. He can feel the punches and kicks as they drag him out into the open. The beating continues until he wakes up.
Egan screamed as he sat up looking around expecting to see the gang there but he is alone. He is now a man with expensive clothes. His light blond hair is neatly trimmed and his face is clean-shaven and handsome. His dark eyes still look at the world through that filter of poverty.
The bedroom is lavish with a comforting light by his bedside. He now leans back remembering the details of the nightmare.
His first thought was, "After all these years why did I dream of my childhood?"
Thinking about all his accomplishments since becoming a watcher, how he worked his way up through the ranks by proving his worth. He became the youngest Watcher President of the France Chapter in only three years.
He realized there was one objective still not complete. The dream jarred his memory for a reason.
Retracing the path taken by immortals Egan recognized how much he resented their longevity. The riches accumulated for centuries. It was now time to put the immortals in their place.
Closing his eyes Egan contemplated the past, "Because of their greed and long life I was so poor. My mother made me leave into the unforgiving streets because there was no money."
He could hear his secretary knocking softly asking if he was awake. Smiling Egan replied, "Yes I'm awake."
Continuing his thoughts with a new purpose, "There is much work to begin and so little time for mortals." His smile turned bitter, "Why did I not see this before."
As an answer to his thoughts, the demon boasts, "Because timing is everything little puppet. The supremacy of Immortals is criminal and you will soon know why this was the time."
Barge on the River Seine
MacLeod handed Beth the glass he had refilled which she accepted gratefully drinking it in one swallow.
"I'm not sure how long I lay there but I became aware and struggled to breath, my heart burned and began to beat again. There was a covering of new fallen snow on me and I sat up."
She stopped to look at him the wonder showing on her face. She said with awe, "I saw the world so differently. The sky was so blue. The silence was overwhelming. All five of my senses felt so intense."
"What did you do then?" He asked leaning back against a post.
She answered, "I went back to my village and saw burned houses and bodies left all around. I picked up father's sword lying in the snow."
She slowly shook her head, looking distant, "Everyone was dead by beheading. Eventually I found Joram also beheaded. I could not bury them at all and I had to leave everything it as it was. I felt a rage deep enough to seek vengeance but I was not sure why I lived again. That's when I vowed to never kill as those men had." She sat back drained by the ordeal.
Mac remembered the same sensations the wonder of it all the need to know what happened. The intensity was something you could never forget. Just like when you have your first quickening, it stays with you.
"Beth I can help you let go of that memory." He told her standing before her with compassion.
She shook her head and heart filled with sorrow and stated, "They killed that part of me."
Reaching up to stroke the tears off her cheek he told her, "I don't believe that. I think you have the capacity move beyond it and live fully again."
"I can't stop the memories from haunting me." She insisted pulling away from him. "I've kept them buried too long."
He stood back, "You're right. We both have memories that have haunted us for too long." He suggested, "We'll start with meditation."
Duncan pulled out a mat from a closet took off his shoes and sat down. "Here sit down like this. Come on it won't hurt," he told her.
Beth relented and did the same sitting across from him with her hands in her lap.
He told her to close her eyes, "Now I want you to picture a safe place where you feel peace."
She did as he asked feeling exhausted but willing to be free from that pain if he could help her.
Over the next few hours, he understood why Richie could not help her through this. It was all so complicated. There were painful memories that suppressed her growth as an Immortal. She lived on raw instinct alone.
Using a technique he remembered from Sean Burns by making her digress back in time to become her own champion was nearly impossible.
He instructed her again, "In your mind see yourself with a sword in hand coming at those men who attacked you."
Her eyes closed tightly and her hands balled up in fists she nodded her head trying to do as he asked.
He continued, "You must strike at them don't stop until you've driven them back."
Her breathing quickened and her mind traveled to that time and she struggled with the image before.
He ordered her, "See your other self on the ground afraid but unhurt. Kneel down and help her up. Tell her it's all right now that she's safe."
"I can't!" She cried, "She won't come to me and the men are coming back."
He commanded her, "Hold your sword up and keep them away," pressing the hilt of her sword in her hands.
Beth felt the reassurance in his voice and gripped her sword to try again. She said aloud, "Come here to me Bethy. I need you!"
The girl in her mind refused again saying in return, "You need your pain to survive. It's the only reason you've survived."
Beth opened her eyes and screamed "I need my pain!" holding the sword now pointing at Duncan her eyes wild with fear.
Not giving up he continued, "Your pain will kill you. From inside it will destroy you!" He moved back out of range of her sword.
She felt panic rising in her. Getting up she ran quickly for the door.
He refused her that catching her around the waist, pulling her to the floor, and taking her sword away. He commanded, "You're not leaving until I know you're free of this."
Struggled against him she cried out, "Who I was died 200 years ago!" Her hair came loose and fell around her face.
He said without pity, "Then you have no need of my help."
He let go of her and stood up saying with decisiveness, "You can leave. I can't befriend you if you refuse it."
Beth was shocked into silence and she stood up feeling lost. Looking around the barge and realized how much she wanted to stay.
Instead of leaving, she walked over to fall across the bed moaning her anguish. Her hair covered her face and she began to sob quietly.
Duncan knew she was at the stage now where crying was the best therapy. His memories of Sean Burns told him that and much more. He picked up a blanket to throw over her and then moved her to one side.
Turning off the lights, he lay down on his bed making himself comfortable. Covering up with a quilt he carefully put his arm around her to offer comfort.
He wondered, "How she could survive this torment so long keeping so much pain locked inside."
Beth rocked herself for comfort in the dark along with the memory of their faces she quietly called out, "Mama…Papa…Joram."
Long after midnight, Methos found his way back to his townhouse. Covered with blood he stayed out of sight deep in the shadows. He went up the back stairs as everyone else nearby slept soundly.
When he finally made it to his flat, he unlocked the door and quietly opened it. Looking down he saw an envelope addressed to Adam Pierson. He recognized the stationary from the Watchers.
Entering the front room slowly he looked around to be sure no one was waiting for him. Taking a bottle of Pure Agave Tequila, he went straight for the bathroom and started the water in the tub. Not even waiting until it was full Methos slid in clothes and all to sit there and lament.
Methos dealt with the death of Jonas the same way he did with all close friends. He got drunk. The night when Silas, Caspian and Kronos met their fate, it was no different and MacLeod tried to drink him under the table.
The water could wash the blood but not the pain. Pulling off his clothes, he dropped them soaking wet next to the tub. While he went through all the motions of washing, rinsing and climbing out to dry off he did so with no feeling or thought. At last getting into bed where even there he could find no solace.
The taxi ride back to her hotel went well but she kept looking over shoulder out of the back window knowing a watcher drove the car that was following her.
Amanda's thoughts mirrored her stubborn defiance, "If Egan thinks I'm going to play his game then he can go to hell."
Her musings drifted back to all the times when a man tried to control her. Amanda remembered the poverty and she worked hard so she would never be hungry again.
"Driver," Amanda called out, "Turn here and drop me off." She would walk the rest of the way through the small back alley.
The taxi stopped at the curb. Amanda got out and paid the fare. Glancing at the headlights approaching she took off in a quick walk covering much ground before the car turned into the alleyway.
Zigzagging down more streets and alleys Amanda was sure she lost him and began to relax. She walked behind a group of people coming out of the theater and blended in.
"What did it matter anyway? They always know where I will turn up. Why do I play these games?" She asked herself only half listening to the conversation going on around her.
To kill a Watcher was unthinkable but it was beginning to seem a reality she would have to eventually face. She wondered, "What would Mac say?"
At that same moment, Duncan MacLeod was considering the same thing.
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